After the Hudson Witch told us what the final trial was, she pointed us back towards the area where the others were waiting. I walked back with the others in silence, met up with Emyrith, and began the painstaking journey up the hill where Mina had pushed me, then down into the forest. Ruth and Wol had a conversation where my familiar asked a lot of questions, and Ruth answered them. I muted them out into the background, my thoughts preoccupied by what the Hudson Witch had said.
Jesus. A murder mystery. Let me rephrase that. A supernatural murder mystery.
It wasn’t bad enough that I came in second place to Victor in the previous trial; this one was shaping up to be in foreign territory, too. I can count on one hand the number of people who are involved in murder mysteries at my age, and most of them aren’t real. I was no Nancy Drew. I was just a regular high school kid up until three days ago, and there was no way that I knew even the first step towards solving a murder crime. The only thing I knew about solving a murder was from watching TV shows about savvy detective-parallel law enforcement individuals. Lawyers, crime scene investigators, those sorts of things.
I needed to talk to preternaturals who would know where to start. Maybe the Intellet Transit, or Paris. Hell, even Valstein might—
I stopped in my tracks.
“Practitioner?” Wol, the closest one behind me, passed me and then stopped. The sun was high enough so that his eyes didn’t glow in the dark anymore.
“We’re going back,” I said. I immediately flipped myself around and began to double-time in the direction where the Hudson Witch had been. I could only pray she hadn’t left yet.
“What’s this?” Emyrith said. He looked just as tired as he sounded.
“The third trial. In murder cases, they always question witnesses. Family members. Friends. Guess who seems to be a sort of witness and friend at the same time?” I hurried my crutch along, and Wol bounded into a cat-like march next to me.
“The Hudson Witch,” my black feline familiar answered. “How did you get to that conclusion?”
I grimaced. “TV.”
“The box with the moving pictures?” Wol asked.
‘I like TV,’ Hwari chimed in.
“Yes. And before you tell me not to trust anything on TV, those types of shows are called procedurals. I think they’re almost as accurate as can be, minus all the love scandals and witty one-liners,” I said, then stopped, remembering my promise to Wol that I’d be better about rushing headlong into things. “Unless maybe there’s something I should worry about?”
“I see no risk in this endeavor other than you tiring yourself out. But we have six days,” Wol said and led the way. “What will you ask her?”
“I just want to see if I can get a better grasp of the situation. Maybe fine a direction to start searching in. There’s like a gazillion people in New York City. I can’t just start knocking on doors,” I said. “I need a lead.”
The rest of our walk was done in silence, broken up by the sound of my breathing. I’d really pushed myself in the last two days, and everything was either battered, broken, bruised, or burnt. Hell, even my head was starting to hurt. But I was so freaking close. I’d beat Mina in the trial and made it to the second round. Everything would be decided in this trial, and I’d be damned if I let it all slip away because of physical pain.
I didn’t want to regret anything. I was young enough to be sure that the ankle and my arm wouldn’t have any permanent damage. Regret, on the other hand… well, I don’t think there’s healing from that.
We came up to the vantage point on the top of the hill, looking down at the site of the Mother Tree’s final resting place. I squinted and saw a small humanoid figure in the distance.
“Hwari, would you mind letting her know we’re coming?” I asked.
My koi fish familiar bobbed her assent and dipped into the shadows.
When Mina had pushed me down the hill, it took me maybe ten seconds to reach the bottom. Walking downhill with crutches was brutal. I was constantly forced to reassess my footing in all this ice and snow to make sure I wouldn’t be bowling over. Even if I fell while walking uphill, I might get away with a scrape or two. Downhill… well, Mina showed me what could happen. I heard from somewhere that hiking down the mountain is the worst. Now I knew why.
It took another ten minutes to reach the Hudson Witch. Her grayish hair reflected the sunlight, appearing nearly silver. This up close, I could tell her hair had a lot of knots and tangles in it. Also, she wasn’t alone.
The geistheilers appeared behind her, all of them employing different applications of their practice: appearing from the snow, shuffling out from behind large branches, and some unveiling themselves out of thin air as Mina had done. I told myself it was just a coincidence that they had stayed invisible until I was within arm’s reach of the Hudson Witch. I also told myself that it was another coincidence that they happened to be surrounding us with their staves out.
The Hudson Witch didn’t seem bothered by it. However, she did wave her hands and they all went back to whatever they were doing. Moving branches, digging around the snow, and a few of them escaping out of my vision. “You wished to speak, lad?”
“I just wanted to ask you some questions,” I said.
She gave me a long look. “Ask,” she said finally. Then to Emyrith said, “You know the rules, Lawyer?”
“Yes,” he said simply. He wasn’t allowed to help.
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I returned to the questions. “Uh,” I searched for the right words, calling on nights of studying when I used to have the television on for background noise. “You come here often?”
Emyrith coughed.
I tried not to turn beet red from inadvertently hitting a semi-immortal being with what could be construed as a pick-up line. “I mean, did you frequently visit the Mother Tree?”
“Not me, but the forest children,” the Hudson witch answered, gesturing vaguely towards a pair of geistheilers. “But I sensed something was amiss and made haste.” She looked towards the burnt tree. “I was too late.”
“And they didn’t see anything? The attackers?”
She shook her head.
I looked at the huge trunk, which had once been the Mother Tree and the mushkin. A small, empty pang went through my heart. I hadn’t even known her that well, but to see a living, breathing being reduced to nothing but a burnt piece of wood, a being that had lived for centuries… all that memory just gone… I couldn’t imagine someone bringing themselves to be able to do that. I mean, we nominate historical sites and protect endangered species for a reason. History, culture, things like that matter.
I shook my head, trying to focus. “Can you explain what you mean by ‘something was amiss’?”
The Hudson Witch’s breath left her in a long exhale. It took visible effort for her to look away from the Mother Tree’s corpse. “A disturbance in the balance of the forest. The forest screamed, not from simple pain, but from outrage. It was enough to alert my charms. The forest was angered, because it was not Mother Nature who inflicted the wound, but outsiders.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What kind of outsiders?”
“Outsiders to the forest, lad,” she said. “City dwellers. Those who do not take directly nor give to the land.”
“Could it have been one of the Table?” I said softly.
One of the Geistheilers stopped what they were doing gave me an intense look. I didn’t need to look behind the mask to know that it was a glare.
“None would dare,” the Hudson Witch said. “They know my stance on the matter.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I pressed softly.
The Hudson Witch gave me another long look. “I see now how you managed to win Palis and the Intellect Transit over. You have a certain obsession coupled with a way of seeing.”
I flinched. I hoped it was a compliment. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to ask them for a college recommendation letter. So my question about why it’s outsiders?”
She shook her head. “Lad, you do not understand. It’s not just the Table, but all who live here. One of our own would not leave a deathblow to the Mother Tree of a forest. Trick her? Hurt her? Take advantage of her in some way? Yes. But to leave her for dead? Nay. That would be foolish.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be upsetting the balance to a point where their gain would be upset by the damages,” the druid said. “Killing a being as integral as the Mother Tree marks you. A karmic scar that is evident to all local fauna spirits. Dryads, satyrs, ghosts of the forest, animals, they’d know. Druids like myself would be unable to invoke workings at all.”
I leaned in. “Can you explain what that would look like?”
“Small but noticeable ways, lad. Ingredients would be harder to procure. Anything you gain from the land could spoil more easily. Milk would sour. Grain would be infested with pests. You will always struggle to grow plants or find their taste refreshing. Herbs will crumble, and the trees will rescind their shade from you during the summer suns, while covering you in cold shadow during the winter moons,” She said. “In the short history of your people, many an innocent man cut down a Mother Tree, and they were accused of witchcraft for it. Most of them were burned or drowned. A part of the rejection, when nature was closer to men’s hearts.”
While she was speaking, I brought out a notebook and started writing everything down. She hadn’t said she didn’t kill the Mother Tree, but she was a druid. Going off of what Wol said, her practice would be crippled if she really was behind the Mother Tree’s attack.
I changed the topic. “How do you know they’re still in the city?”
“As I have said, a murder of this degree leaves a certain mark. The spirits have told me they have sensed someone with this mark moving about in the city,” She said.
“You can’t track them using this mark?”
Her face grew more remote. “If I could have, this would not be a task I have handed over.”
I shivered as a breeze stung my cheeks. The night chill had replaced the morning air. “Ok, let me get this straight now,” I said, looking down at my notes. “There’s an attack on the Mother Tree. Not everyone can do it. It leaves some kind of curse-mark-thingie on the attacker.” The Hudson Witch nodded. “You can tell they’re still in the city, but there’s no way to narrow it down to just one. Since you can’t do it, you’re going out on a limb here and hoping either Victor or I can do it?”
“Correct, lad.”
“Be honest with me, please. What are the chances of us succeeding?”
She gave me an uncharacteristic shrug. “One can never tell.”
“So slim to none, got it,” I said dryly. “Last question, do you know who might have done something like this? It sounds like the pool is pretty narrow.”
“No specific names. But unless it were a being of immense power, I would say there would have been multiple names involved.”
“Got it,” I said, writing that down too. I was already a step behind Victor in everything; I needed every advantage I could get. A thought struck me. “Did Valentine talk to you before he left?”
“He did not,” she said.
Ha. Hallow, One. Valentine, Zero.
I chewed on my lip. Small victories aside, Victor definitely had the leg up on this competition. Emyrith and Granny Valentine might not be allowed to help, but I was sure that any connection that the Valentines had as a family was his to use. I was fighting against the odds here, and I had to wonder if taking the entire six days was a wise choice. There was the chance that Victor could find the criminals’ way before then. Maybe the reason he didn’t bother staying behind to talk to the Hudson Witch was that he didn’t need to.
“Thanks, that’s it,” I said. “What are you going to do now?”
“I will give new life to the forest with the Mother Tree’s remains. Fertilizer. Charcoal. Nests for the flocks that will visit come spring. I must also look to the new Mother Tree, and inform her of her duties,” she rubbed her wrinkled, but rather slender, hands together.
“Good luck,” I blanked, not knowing what to call her.
“You may call me the Hudson Witch, lad.”
“Good luck, Hudson Witch,” I said and turned to leave.
“Wait,” the Hudson Witch gestured towards one of the geistheilers. The short Geistheiler, who had been moving one of the burnt pieces of the Mother Tree, walked over. She was holding a long piece of wood, about five feet long, and absolutely charred black. The Hudson Witch nodded at me. “That is for you, lad. I noticed that you are not in full raiment of your practice. Staff, instrument, trinkets.”
“Wait, this is for me?”
The Hudson Witch nodded. “Do with it, as you will.”
I stared at the piece of wood, reaching out with my hand. Even as a piece of charcoal, I could sense the slight vibration of power stirring within. “I can’t… I don’t have anything to give you in return.”
“Freely given,” the Hudson Witch said.
I looked at her, then at the branch, and back at her. “Really?”
“Truly,” she said.
“My practitioner, you are being rude. Thank her,” Wol hissed from my feet.
“Th-thank you,” I said, and the short Geistheiler handed me the branch. It was heavy, and since one arm was burnt and the other occupied with holding a crutch, I had to lean it against my stomach. “Why? I thought you’re not allowed to help.”
For the first time since I met her, the Hudson Witch’s dull eyes glittered with the color of summer creeks and autumn leaves. Only for a second, but it had been there. “Perhaps it would benefit the locals to have one of our own inherit the Shin inheritance. Someone who cares for this land.”
“That’s… literally nepotism.”
“There is a natural order to things, lad. From father to son, and mother to daughter. From parent to child. We druids, fight to preserve such a balance,” she said. “Now, I must hurry and prepare. The next time we meet, I hope you have more for me than simple questions.” Then, without waiting for me to respond, she headed off to the Mother Tree’s remains.
I thought about what she said. Then I somehow managed to set the Mother Tree’s branch and crutch together, and limped back over to Emyrith.